


Muddled

by Venticelli



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Freak Show
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Extended Metaphors, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, How many tags can I add?, I really like metaphors, M/M, Male Bonding, Metaphors, Mild Blood, Smut, Yeah that's what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:52:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venticelli/pseuds/Venticelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dandy wonders where he stands in this whole thing when it comes to his relationship with the Clown. Sure, he enjoys it, and it's some of the most fun he's had in a while, but what if, perhaps, the feelings aren't mutual? To his dismay he seems to have caught feelings and wonders if maybe the Clown has too? Or maybe he’s just kidding himself. It's all so very hard to think about, especially when you're on your back on the floor of a monster's bus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muddled

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I wrote some naughty Twandy disgusting shenanigans, and well…I’m ashamed. But! I got an idea in my head and decided to run with it. And yes, I write like a bad porno/romance novel go awry. I know. But I mean…this already involves a rich brat and a monstrous clown missing half his face, the quality of writing is hardly its biggest sin. But yeah, kinda some weird not quite fluffy nonsense. Is there even a market for Twandy stuff anymore? Well, I'm gonna get it going again. I believe in me.

This was hardly the first time they’d had sex…maybe _**fucked**_ was a better word for their increasingly frequent activities. By now Dandy was more than a little familiar with every inch of the Clown’s body, especially when they were being…intimate didn’t seem like the right word, but Dandy could hardly think of a better one. Yes, he knew his Clown quite well. Biblically as some would say. The rough and warm hands that held him in place and left bruises on his wrists and around his throat. His broad shoulders and strong chest and how they tensed and flexed. The pleasant weight of a soft, plump, stomach pinning him down and rubbing against his cock with each rough thrust that caused the smaller man to gasp and purr and reach out his hands to caress and hold whatever sweat dampened skin he could find.

And, _of course_ , he knew the Clown’s cock, how full it made him feel and the rhythm of it moving in and out of him…

Right now there wasn’t much of a rhythm to speak of, but it was very deliberate. Dandy closed his eyes for a few moments and wrapped his fingers around the Clown’s forearms, biting his lip to only just barely stifle a moan. His bliss was interrupted by a sudden and sharp thrust that caused Dandy’s eyes to open wide and for his head to collide with the metal wall of the Clown’s bus. At least the nest of blankets and pillows provided some source of padding, but it wasn’t much.

Not that Dandy didn’t mind the vaguely elicit feeling he got when they fucked out in the bus. He didn’t mind it at all.

He turned his face to look at the Clown, wanting to express some sentiment about him being more careful, that he bruised easily, but he found his complaints silenced when he saw the beast looking right back at him. There was a challenge behind those swamp colored eyes that told him to hold his tongue. Oh, how those eyes and that gaze could make his heart flutter and his knees weak. Especially now when they were so _close_. 

It made Dandy want to ask him if he could feel it too. Feel this exchange of intimacy when they locked eyes like this…but Dandy knew there was no point in asking. The Clown was mute, apart from hisses, growls, _moans_ …and it was silly to think he was feeling just as mixed up and confused as Dandy was. Surely, it was only in stories that the beast could reciprocate affection in any kind of meaningful way. Could ever learn to _lo-_

Dandy’s thoughts were cut short as he felt the mask’s teeth on his neck and heard a familiar rumbling growl in his ear. It made him melt and lose any ability to make any sound outside of a soft sort of mew as he arched his back. He could have come right there, but the Clown didn’t let him, slowing a bit to focus on “kissing” Dandy’s neck and easing the palm of his hand over the length of Dandy’s dick, teasing him. Pinned beneath the Clown, Dandy could only sigh and curl his toes as he found his mind wandering yet again.

_God_ , one moment he thought he’d put these muddled feelings to rest and the next he was back on cloud nine. A beast so tender as this couldn’t possibly have a heart of stone. Not completely anyway. It confused him so and left him wondering even as he could feel himself building up once more to orgasm and his thoughts became harder to articulate within his own head. He did not ask for these feelings, and yet, here they were, cropping up at the most inopportune times.

How was it that his Clown could be so bestial and yet so caring, considerate…possibly even doting. Sometimes he was all affection. Kisses and playful teasing and gentle eye contact that made Dandy feel like maybe this could be some kind of fairytale…there was a quick shift in the Clown’s demeanor just then as he began rutting hard into Dandy’s ass again, causing him to yelp and precum to roll down the head of his cock and remember just what other nights could be like.  

On nights like those he ended up with his thighs red and raw and his ass leaking blood and cum in equal measure as his bed companion slept soundly with his back to him. Where was the _romance_ then? Certainly not in the space between their bodies those nights and in the corner’s of Dandy’s mind where he felt like a harlot and that he’d wake up to a cold spot on the bed and cash left for him on his bureau without even a note.

Those thoughts were creeping in once more, undeterred by the fierce panting and moaning of the two-backed beast that writhed on the floor. Yes, this had all started out with lust, selfish want (He had always wanted a monster of his own from the moment he saw them in the picture books that Dora used to read to him as a child), but Dandy wanted to believe that there was maybe something else there. That he wasn’t alone in feeling this. Whatever _this_ was. The thought that this could mean nothing at all, that the Clown felt nothing when they looked at each other, caused a chill to go up Dandy’s spine and a lump to form in his throat, even now as words of ecstasy fell out of his mouth. Once more he closed his eyes, turning his face to the side as he tried to shut out the unpleasant thoughts for just long enough for him to come.

He could deal with that later when there were less pressing things to attend to.

Just as he felt stomach tightening, each thrust bringing him that much closer, Dandy felt something else that almost made him jump. A warm hand with rough, calloused, fingertips caressing his cheek and making him turn his face forward. He opened his eyes and saw his Clown’s face close to his, those eyes soft and clear and focused entirely on him. 

Dandy bit his lip and dug his nails into the large man’s forearms as he came, his whole head spinning as he made a mess on his companion’s stomach and chest, cum clinging to the dark hair. He flushed, embarrassed and still riding his high as he braced himself against the rough, bucking hips that accompanied the Clown’s own orgasm, filling him up and making him feel needy for more despite how worn he was suddenly feeling.

The whole time they watched each other, neither of them flinching. Dandy’s stomach dropped as he felt the Clown pull out of him. Once he was sure he wasn’t looking, Dandy pouted, lamenting the feeling of what the Clown had left in him oozing out between his cheeks, but he quickly dropped the expression as realized the Clown had turned to look at him once more.

They stayed like that a while, Dandy couldn’t really tell how long, gazing at each other and panting. Dandy’s mind was still a muddled mess of half feelings and sickness and adrenaline as he felt his dick getting soft, pressed between him and the Clown’s pleasantly warm gut.

What had that just been? Intimate for sure, but why? Why had the Clown _insisted_ , as much as he could insist, that they look each other in the eyes for that? Why this time? Sure, it had happened before, but never with such intent. Dandy thought whimsically that maybe the Clown could read minds and that he was trying to tell him something.

But all too soon, the Clown got up off him, and Dandy suddenly noticed the cool breeze coming in through the old windows, tracking long since worn. Any foolish hope he’d been entertaining of mutual feelings and fairytales was just about swept away, leaving him feeling damn near sorry for himself. But just before he’d completely given himself up to pouting a pair of long arms with rough, warm hands pulled him close and pushed the cold and the creeping lonely feelings away. Dandy’s heart leapt into his throat, and all at once that nagging hope returned to him.

Pressed up close to the Clown, _his fairytale monster,_ once more, Dandy buried his face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deeply, taking in the other’s earthy musk and the sweet and sweaty smell of sex that lingered on his skin. Adjusting to rest his head on that strong chest, he listened to the steady heartbeat and was all at once awash in warmth and comfort as they laid there together on the mismatched collection of old blankets and pillows that served as the Clown’s bed. The light pressure of the Clown’s mask upon the top of his head, his nose buried in his hair, and fingers idly drawing patterns into his back soothed him until he could feel his eyelids growing heavy.

As mixed up as his feelings had been before, all cloudy and muddled, Dandy knew, knew for absolute certain, that there was something shared here. He dared not call it that word that fairytales liked to use so much out loud, but it was hard to resist it wrapped up in the Clown’s arms. He loved his Clown, and, at least, for the time being he was certain that he loved him back.


End file.
